The Legend of Sezarra: Story 1: Death Pit of Orcs
by Master Archon
Summary: ViceDruchii Sezarra Ju'end is caught up in another devastating war with a hellish orc army lead by vicious black orcs. Please read and review.
1. The Grudge

The Legend of Sezarra

Chapter 1:

The Grudge

Sezarra Ju'end rode toward the nearby fort; the moss covered stonewall had not seen battle for many years, possibly decades. The fort held about seven hundred people, including guards, men, women and children. The citadel loomed over from behind the gate with vines running up the walls. The guards were partially asleep, but abruptly became alert when it was found there were two travelers on the dirt road. And the guards became even more alert when it was found the thy were not only travelers, but they were shadow elves. Shadow elves were famed for their honor, but also known for the chaos that they cause for "fun."

Sezarra's spiked black plate armor clinked with every step of his black horse 'Starlight.' His black cloak fell around the horse's hind and over the back of the saddle and his mettalic red colored eyes gazed around. He had his katana 'Angelblade' strapped horizontally across his lower back and ready to draw at any threat. It was adorned with gold and glowed a soft silver light. Its blade's keen edge was sharp enough to cut other blades unscathed. The katana was so cherished Sezarra hadn't ever pulled on its' full power in battle, because he believed this would show cowardice. He also had a gauntlet on his right arm with long claws on it… in fact; it was now his arm. His long white hair hung down to his shoulders and fluttered in the breeze. His elven ears listened cautiously for any sound. Though Sezarra was fair, even for an elf, he was much more sinister than his initial appearance showed. He cared for his people, but he was commonly causing Shadow Elven "fun," like most of his kind.

Riding alongside Sezarra was his journeyman Zadachi S'thin. Zadachi was slightly shorter than Sezarra's 5'6" height standing about 5'4". Zadachi had long black hair that matched the style of his master, and pale skin fair in the dim sunlight. He wore black half-plate that was similar to the style of Sezarra's and his black cloak tied securely around his neck. Zadachi had a katana of power he found in a realm of fire. After having a little trouble with a few Chameleons he won it over. He named it 'Hellfire' and he could control its multi-colored flame at will. He was capable of causing flaming destruction on the field of battle. He looked over the fort and around at the guards on the wall and tightened his lips.

Sezarra rode up to the gates of Nishari with Zadachi. The group of fifteen to twenty guards held their bows at the ready. Sezarra's clan of elves were not easily trusted. Many of the shadow elves had become rogues, or pirates. They were commonly stereotyped for being evil (which was often true.)

"Hail, travelers, state your name and business here!" yelled the guard far above. He raised his bow and aimed at them both. The arrow's tip pointed for Sezarra's head. The others watched their older commander and waited patiently for orders.

"We are Sezarra and Zadachi and are here to speak with General Strik. We have been traveling far and wide to seek audience with him." Sezarra answered. He looked upwards to the unfaltering eyes of the human above him. Only one of the sinister red eyes stared out underneath the ebony hood he wore. The stare was one that could freeze even the hardest warriors in their tracks. The guards seeing this look flinched overtly.

The commander hesitated, unsure of what to do next. He then sighed and replied, "When you enter, do not draw upon your weapons or any magic, or you shall be considered hostile to us." He then signaled for the gatehouse to open the gates.

Starlight's hooves crunched under the crisp earth denied of water for so long. Zadachi's horse followed close behind. He then put up the hood of his cloak to shade the sun light beginning to pierce the clouds. The dark elves lived in a very dark and dull area, usually in caves, or in the mountains. Light was uncommon and their eyes were sensitive to light.

The people of the town glanced up from their work to observe the strangers so different from all other aspects of the town. The people were packing supplies for a battle and readying weapons for a cause currently unknown to Sezarra. There was even an engineer burning oil in a large cauldron. Sezarra gave a confused look to Zadachi, who only shrugged slightly. Obviously there was a battle nearby, but all seemed so calm. Perhaps they had been warned by scouts to stay alert? This was something Sezarra had to find out when he spoke with General Strik. Part of him wanted to see this small fortress massacred, but another part of him whispered control in the back of his mind. Some guards at the gate were paid well to care for their horses. They were to be in the stables next to the inn upon their return.

Black cloaks flowed behind them as they marched to the town hall to speak with General Strik. The guards stood easily and rested on their pikes until the elves walked up to them. They then snapped to attention and asked the business of the shady elf in front of them who answered in a low, soft, whisper, "We are here on an important and secret assignment and seek the audience of the General in charge."

"What authority do you have?" The guard uneasily said. He did not know whether to trust the shadow elves or not. Not many did (the shadow elves didn't even really trust themselves.)

Sezarra's eyes flashed with anger but the whisper in his mind calmed him again, leaving only the scowl on his face. Sezarra then pulled the sleeve over his left arm back swiftly and peeled back his spiked gauntlet to show the scar of the Vice-Druchii of the Dark Elves under Sythraa the Relentless. The guard's eyes widened with shock and his blood ran from his face leaving him pale. Sezarra instantly smirked.

The other guard obviously didn't understand. He turned to his ally and saw him shaking slightly with fear. "If you have such power to frighten Dan, then you have enough authority for me to let you pass, your Lordship." He then turned around and cared for Dan, who apparently was still shocked.

"Very well." And Sezarra pushed past the stuttering guard. He then pushed open the large wooden doors with both hands, making them echo their bang off the walls around the central chamber. He then took powerful strides past the next few guards, who were similarly uneasy and slightly frightened at his entry, into the room of General Strik. Similarly slamming the door open the General instantly jumped in his chair, which was turned the other way.

Sezarra lowered his hood and slightly smirked at the back of the chair in front of him that was holding Strik who was staring down at a map. "Strik, we have something to discuss." A scowl formed on Sezarra's face as the stricken General Strik turned around in his chair.

Sezarra looked deeply into the eyes of the General and the General's eyes looked back. Strik's stare was one of practice and one that had seen much death, but even those eyes couldn't hide the fear that he was showing now. He had been caught and he knew it. He had openly betrayed the elves' trust and this wasn't something to take lightly, as elves often hold grudges for many years.

"I…I uh…I didn't know you were coming Vice-Druchii. I…I would have warned my guards. " He stuttered his voice shaking slightly.

"You know the elves, especially my kin," Sezarra spoke threateningly slamming his left fist down on the desk in front of him and pointing to him with the wickedly sharp claw of his right hand guantlet, "do not take lightly to cowards and betrayers. You left us on the battlefield and removed your army, knowing full well that my men put their lives on the line! We…" he points to himself and Zadachi, "are the only ones left alive! Your cowardice is to blame. Those orcs are now ravaging our city and looting our goods. We had to flee the ruins that you caused!"

Strik recoiled and was fearful of Sezarra's next action. "You…You…I never…you were…" he had no words to get out, he knew that the massacre at Garador Castle was his fault… He was rapidly trying to find an escape from his persecution. There were thousands and thousands of orcs that attacked the well-defended stronghold. Garador castle was a huge stone castle with a massive (now dead) populace. The orcs had defeated the castle with sheer numbers and a few war machines.

Suddenly the castle shook and cracks formed in the wall showering dust on the people below. The castle walls creaked and cracked threatening to fall on them. The General stood up and looked around calling out to one of his guards.

But before he left for reinforcements, another guard burst in looking terrorized. His eyes were wide and he was shaking uncontrollably. "They…they're here, sir…the...re…thousands…orcs...!"


	2. The Flood

Chapter 2:

The Flood

Sezarra kicked over the chair next to him and ran from the main room to the front gates of the keep. He stared out at the castles defenses. A few hundred humans…and against the orcs who attacked Garador? They stood no chance. Sezarra moved toward the base of the wall steps and began scaling them up to the top. Zadachi was following him close behind shaking his head at the human's poor defenses.

Sezarra reached the top of the stairs and looked over the wall and saw hundreds of orcs pouring from the forests. He looked left and right and saw that there was not only one battalion of these brutish creatures, but a whole sea of orcs covering the land like a spreading disease. They had brought the whole army. The scouts must have tracked them here. Zadachi reached the top and stood next to the crenellation looking out at the endless sea of massive creatures holding brutish axes and thick swords. He let out a gasp and began to move down the stairs. For a moment Sezarra thought he was going to leave the castle, but then he stopped and rested on the stairs thinking over the tactics of the city.

Sezarra looked around and saw that there was no way that the town could hold against the tide of this ocean. The walls would surely fall and all of the residents, soldier or not, would be brutally murdered. Sezarra never fled a battle, save the massacre at Garador, he knew that there was a high chance that he would die and Lady Zhinthra would take him into her realm. There he would meet his mother, his sisters, his brother, and Zadachi when it was all over, but now he was ready for battle. He was always eager to show true bravery and prowess.

He looked out over the waves of orcs and saw that most of these beasts were true berserkers, no armor, and all weapons. But there were some that did wear armor. Not just leather or chain mail, but a full plate so thick that no human could possibly walk around wearing it. They carried axes with axe-heads that were as thick as the hand is wide and as long as a human torso. These were real beasts of war. They were organic metal war-machines. If he recalled correctly, they were named Black Orcs, the elite of the tribes, ones who had single-handedly slain a dragon, mountain giant, or taken on an army by themselves. Among the orcs they were the legends, near to being gods, outranking even the most powerful orc warlords.

And Sezarra would have to fight them outnumbered ten to one

Sezarra looked long and hard out at the tide of beastly humanoids and was unsettled by these monstrous metal beasts. The black orcs clambered on following their brethren as if they wore no armor at all; it seemed not to bother them. Zadachi moved down and instead of standing by the gate like Sezarra had thought; he grabbed a longbow and a quiver of arrows.

Sezarra changed his tactic also and followed grabbing a bow and a quiver of his own. He grew up around bows, but was not very good at shooting them, he believed that killing his foe at a distance wasn't a fair battle and showed cowardice to the foe.

He shrugged off any feeling of cowardice, as he knew that this battle was already lost; but he might as well help some people in the process. He swore he would kill as many as possible. Climbing to the top of the wall he notched an arrow as he looked over the wall and saw that the invaders were not far off. He raised the bow and aimed at one of the monstrous metal-clad orcs and released the arrow.

To his satisfaction it hit, that was all he was hoping for, but it just stuck into the metal breastplate and did no further damage. He notched another arrow with anger clouding his mind. He aimed for an unarmored orc this time and released. He didn't hit the one he was hoping for, but killed a different orc instead. The arrow hit him in the upper shoulder and he spun to the ground with a thump. His comrades did not slow their pace, but jumped over the body.

Sezarra slung the bow over his shoulder and ran down the stairs to help the guards on the ground fight against the orcs who were slowly shattering the gate. Once they got in the real battle would begin. A shattered piece of wood shot through the gate skewering a guard. It caught him in the throat and a gasp of air came from his lungs as the blood shot out through his neck splattering to the ground before the body made impact.

Sezarra didn't wince. He paid no attention to the fallen guard, but got ready for the gate to break open so the fighting could really start. He felt along the grip of his katana feeling the familiar pattern of its grip. He slowly drew it as another part of the door shattered. He drew it out slowly. The gleam of the blade glinted in the sunlight that pierced the ever-present clouds.

Then torches rained over the town. The torches fell onto the dry straw roofs of the houses setting them on fire instantly. Some of the guards ran off to extinguish it, but Sezarra watched the door as the first flash of metal gleamed on the opposite side, signaling that the black orcs were at the gate.

In one fell swing the door broke in and threw two guards flying in a bloody pulp spraying the walls and the remaining guards with their liquid of life. Sezarra slowly raised his sword above his blood splattered face and yelled a war cry in the elven tongue.

He rushed in on a black orc, leaping into the air above its head yelling at it in his battle cry of fury. He brought the sword down on his head and the katana's keen edge bit into the helm. Then it slipped off the helm to glide from his shoulder pad and bite into the dirt below.

His eyes darted up to see the drooling rotten teeth of the mouth grinning beneath the iron helm. Sezarra was vulnerable, and he kicked his feet at a rebounding angle to send him gliding backwards for the next attack. The orc's axe swung down and caught one of the protruding spikes on Sezarra's plate armor. It drug him face down into the dirt and he heard the impact and the ringing of his ears. He could no longer see, or hear any part of the battlefield.

He glanced up to see the black orc about to swing down upon him, but one of the human guards rushed up and stabbed it with his spear. The spear sank in and dark red blood drooled to the ground. The monstrous orc turned and roared in the man's face. He swung his arm around and gripped the man's skull firmly in his hand. With one swift movement he crushed the man's helm and skull like a can. Blood shot out from in between his fingers and sprayed over the ground, and over the orc's face.

The orc slung his head back around to stare down at Sezarra with the empty black holes of his helm. He slung his axe around over his head slinging blood across the un-moving body of Sezarra. The axe fell, then there was heard the sound of a wet crush. Then a cry pierced the air.

Sezarra was beginning to regain his hearing and his body was numb, he could hear the roaring "Waaagh!" of the orcs and the war-cries, or maybe just cries, of the towns defenses. He began to push himself upright with his arms. The numbing allowed only a little strength causing him to nearly fall back over. But he caught enough to see the four foot tall dwarf jump off of the top of the armored orc, his hammer smeared lightly with the dark blood.

He shook his head and began to focus, the battle seemed to have spread deeper into the town, but orcs were still pouring in. He was nearly beheaded by one as it ran by, but Sezarra threw himself to his left avoiding the strike. He then kicked his legs behind the orcs knee causing him to collapse. Pulling himself up onto his two legs and gripping the enchanted katana he flipped it over in his hand and thrust it through the orc's gut. The orc fell forward, but Sezarra had already started his dazed staggering to his next foes.

He swung at the nearest orc, armored in nothing more than cloth pants. The orc sidestepped and growled, slinging his axe back around to attack Sezarra. Sezarra ducked and drove his gauntleted fist into the orc's groin. The orc doubled over and Sezarra took the opportunity to stab him through the heart. Blood ran down to the katana's golden hilt and ran down to slick Sezarra's grip on his blade.

He then turned around and ran toward the center of the town distributing blows with his blood-slicked blade. He saw many people running for shelter and saw many orcs trying to attack the women and children. He saw an orc kill a woman and her child in one fell swing of his great axe. A black orc was trying to be held off of some children running for the inn by a two guards. Sezarra saw opportunity and ran up to attack the heavily armored orc. He blocked an attack thrown at him by a nearby orc and thrust his katana in between two plates of the black orcs armor. The orc roared and slammed one of the guards into the wall of the tavern. It then turned to see Sezarra about to attack again. He pulled his katana out and thrust upward through the breastplate. The orc grunted and tried to growl, but only managed to gasp. It dropped its huge axe and fell to one knee. Sezarra pulled his sword out and lashed his blade to slice open the neck of the huge orc. It fell to the ground shaking Sezarra's whole body.

The guard looked at Sezarra in awe and then moved on to fight some other orcs. Sezarra reversed his grip on his blade and thrust into the gut of an orc, its intestines fell to the ground and the orc's body on top of them. Sezarra flipped his grip back to the original position and moved off to where he saw the most black orcs. He ran in parrying blow thrown randomly at him. He cut some orcs as he passed and some he managed to slice into two pieces with his keen edged blade.

Sezarra saw two black orcs fighting close together and swiftly and bloodily felling many guards. Sezarra focused his energy on his sword and it began to glow a soft white light. He swung the sword around under the orcs right arm. The swords white light flashed bright and it burned through the thick metal plate armor of the orc. The sword cut cleanly through its arm. The orcs heavy arm fell to the ground and a stream of blood shot from its arm covering its armor in thick dark blood. The orc swung its other arm around without consent from its parted limb. The giant gauntleted fist hit Sezarra hard in the chest, and during his parry Sezarra managed to cut off part of its hand.

The other black orc turned on him seeing how much damage he was dealing to his comrade. He took a wide sweep at Sezarra and Sezarra leaped back quickly hoping that this swing wouldn't hit him like the last one did. The axe missed him by a hair's breadth and cut his comrade into. The black orc raged and punched with its left boulder sized fist. Sezarra swept to the side and stabbed the orc at his left leg, but his blade ran off the side of the thick plate armor. He shifted his weight and ended behind the massive orc. The orc began to turn on him, but Sezarra summoned forth energy and launched a bolt of blue energy at its helm. The orc jolted and twitched and then began to swing its axe wildly and blindly.

Sezarra took advantage of an off balance maneuver of the orc and stabbed it on the back of its neck. His long blade sliding effortlessly through the thick skin and out the other side of his neck. Sezarra kicked hard off of the orcs back dislodging his katana in the process. He turned around to see a group of about a dozen orcs charging headlong at him. He once again summoned force in his gauntlet-hand and pushed a force wave at the group throwing them thirty or more feet into the town wall far behind them. Next to him on of the guards lashed off an orc's head with his glaive. Looking anxiously around he searched for another area that might need his power, but all he could see was orcs, everywhere. They weren't really strong, but with that many of them, they just flooded in and destroyed with sheer numbers...

As Sezarra looked arouind he noticed that most of the orcs were not charging him, they were avoiding him. But why? Orcs were not known to be intelligent, so why would they avoid one of their enemies. The answer caught Sezarra as he caught sight of a Black Orc giving out commands. The orc was commanding (loudly and gutturally) at the smaller orcs at his feet who were just about to charge him. They held back, and the Black Orc stepped inside of the orcan ring ready for a worthy challenge.


	3. Fire Unleashed

Chapter 3:

Fire Unleashed

Zadachi stepped back easily avoiding an orc spear that was aimed for his stomach. Pulling back from the dead weight of the orc on him he threw the orc off of his katana and lashed out at an orc behind him already leveling a spear. The first strike cut off the tip of the spear and rounding with momentum he went up on his right leg to land a kick in its face. The orc fell backwards still unable to figure out what had hit him.

Knowing that the battle was getting desperate, seeing only orcs and very few humans left, he was soon to call on the flame held within Hellfire. But he held it, he didn't need the Black Orcs to take notice of him yet.

He was fitghting desperately now. Orcs had surrounded him, and his display in the battle was nothing special before this. He had been caught up in yet another battle that would probably claim his life, and once again it was on the shoulders of General Strik.

He weaved to the right as an orc tried to slam its shield into Zadachi's face. Zadachi came up with the keen edge of Hellfire. Cutting deep into his upper thigh and running into his stomach. Zadachi quickly and smoothly ripped the blade free showering him with blood and the ground getting a taste of new gore. However that manuvre took him too long, because on the removal of his blade he was brutally slammed in the back with an orcan mace. The blow was too much for Zadachi and he staggered falling down to his hands. Another swing was coming around. As Zadachi rolled to the side and dodged the incoming mace he tripped up the orc as dirt showered him form the impact next to his left arm.

As the orc fell he threw up Hellfire and caught it in the chest and manuvred his weight to the side to keep the dead weight from falling onto him. Zadachi then rolled back onto his arms and threw himself back upon his feet. By this time more orcs had closed on him, and they had already found a few waek gaps in his half-plate. He felt the burn of previous wounds and the bite of a few more. He slowing felt energy in his body draining, and as the blood trickled down his arm and legs he felt his strength slowly slipping away.

It was getting despreate and Zadachi was feeling the battle around him getting more brutal, the creatures were swarming in and destroying like a flood. He felt the wound from a sword cut on his left arm sting like fire. The many stabs and slashes scattering his body screamed out in his mind telling him to make the torture stop. Zadachi began screaming himself as even more spears found their way into the gaps in his chestplate and abdomen. He was trying to fight wisely and trying to defend, but there were too many of them. With his scream of pain the blade of Hellfire gleamed in the sunlight and the elven script erupted in multicolored flame and rapidly engulfing the whole blade in a rainbow of superheated flame.

He lashed out at an orc and the blade caught in his collar bone and swept right through him and landed into the chest of another. The flames were licking the orcan skin and clothing, and soon as many orcs around Zadachi found themselves burning then they did dying. The bodies began to fall faster and the flame would pulse stronger with every kill.

The orcs began to put a gap between themselves and Zadachi, and then he saw them. The black orcs had seen his display and decided it was time to put their talent to the test. Zadachi was getting a little anxious and reset himself into a more defensive stance, ready to dodge any attack thrown at him. He would have to be careful now. The flame was calming itself, and was lightly flickering on the edge of the keen blade. The Black Orc stepped in and the orcs too afraid to meet their newly enraged opponent stayed out of reach, and some went off to ravage some other troops, but some stayed throwing in a few cheap stabs whenever Zadachi turned his back.

The massive orc stepped into the ring and hefted his great ax in the air preparing for a quick vertical executioner strike. It then leaned its whole body into the ax and swung with the strength of a hill giant straight at Zadachi. Zadachi was too fast however and jemped to the right. He did not try and attack the creature yet, he was trying to wear him down and read his tactics. The ax struck the ground with a strike as loud as thunder and as strong as a battering ram. The blade cracked straight through the parched dirt throwing up rocks and sand. The orc then realeased the haft of his monstrous ax, and hefted two battle axes from his belt. He set himself into a stance ready to strike or defend.

Zadachi found this surprising. This orc was setting himself up for defense and offense. He never knew orcs even had a sence of defense.


End file.
